


The Serpent and the Rose

by Bellicosi



Series: Loki/Reader stories [5]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Asgardian Loki (Marvel), Asgardian Reader (Marvel), F/M, Implied Sexual Content, POV Second Person, Secret Crush, Secret Relationship, Slow Burn, Sweet Loki (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-07-02 23:05:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15806364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bellicosi/pseuds/Bellicosi
Summary: Loki is engaged to Lady Sigrid Eriksdottir, but is far more interested in you, her younger sister Sigyn Eriksdottir





	1. The Arrival

“The younger prince?” Your sister, Sigrid, demanded. “Why am I betrothed to the younger prince if it is of more import for his older brother, the crown prince, to marry?” 

“Hush, Sigrid,” Your mother said sternly. “It is a great honor to marry a prince, regardless of who it is,”

“How would you have felt if you had married father’s little brother instead of him?” Sigrid snapped. “Prince Loki, fascinating as I’m sure he is, will never be more than a mere prince and advisor to his brother, the future king.”

You winced at her cutting words. “Sigrid, is your only motive power when it comes to marriage?” You ask, trying to mask the challenge under a demure tone. 

Sigrid huffed and turned away as the carriage pulled into the gates of Asgard. Her sharp blue eyes took in the palace ahead, with its golden towers and turrets.

You watched as you sped down the streets, lined with homes and stores and restaurants. Voices shouted out wares and greetings in unfamiliar accents. Children dashed around, playing with toys of strange designs. You smiled and clutched onto your mother’s arm in excitement. “Oh, mother, this place is beautiful, is it not?” You breathe. 

“It’s the same as before,” Sigrid said disdainfully. 

Your mother shot her a warning look. “We moved away before your sister could really remember this place, Sigrid. To her, it is a new experience, even if it is her birthplace.”

You’d lived most of your life on the outskirts of Asgard and on Vanaheim, for your father was a minor lord living on his property at the edge of Asgard. Due to his fervent dislike of court life, you had never visited the city after you had been whisked away when you were only a few months old. In addition, your family had never been important enough to warrant any business with the king until now. 

“My ladies,” One of the servants called. “We have arrived.” 

After being helped down, you glanced around, barely able to contain your excitement. You’d always longed to see this place, the gorgeous city that, for most of your life, had been a faraway, unaccessible fairyland. 

“Lord Erik Njalsson, Lady Anselma Halvorsdottir, welcome to the city of Asgard,” The guard at the front of the gates said formally. “His Majesty sends his apologies, for he and his family are currently unavailable to meet with you. He requests that you join him for the feast and ball planned tonight,” 

Your mother smiles ingratiatingly. “It would be our pleasure to,”

The guard nods in response. “Come with me, I will lead you to your rooms.”

Once you have gotten settled in your insanely luxurious suite, you decide to get acquainted with the palace better. After all, you’ll most likely be staying here for some time and, after your sister is married and a princess, you’ll have to visit frequently. Propriety will demand it. 

So you kindly ask your personal maid if she wouldn’t mind showing you around a little and promise that she can have the rest of the day off after doing so. She eagerly takes the offer, showing you the royal baths, the dining halls, and the library before taking you to the gardens. You thank her and tell her that you can find your way back once you’re done, dismissing her. She curtsies and leaves. 

You stroll through the gardens, admiring the diversity of the plants and the way the sunlight reflected off of the ponds within the gardens. The Asgardian palace is much more splendid and opulent than the one in Vanaheim; the Vanaheim royals tend to be more subdued and less ostentatious. You find yourself rather liking the extravagance, it’s a nice change from the drab walls of your father’s villa. However, you suspect that Sigrid will be less than pleased, with her frugal tendencies and disdain for lavish displays. 

You make your way out of the gardens, humming softly under your breath. You wonder what an Asgardian feast and ball will look like, how the food will taste, and, most of all, what the royal family will be like. You are most curious about Queen Frigga, for you have heard tales far and wide about her beauty, magic, and, most importantly, her kindness. You are so absorbed in your thoughts that you don’t notice the dark figure pressed against a golden wall until it steps directly into your path. You blink, halting in your path. Your mouth dries as you see who it is. “Your highness,” You squeak out, dropping into a ridiculously low curtsy. 

“Good afternoon,” Prince Loki, your sister’s betrothed, says, thoroughly amused. “If I may ask, what matters had just preoccupied your thoughts?” 

You twist your hands helplessly at his forwardness. “Nothing of import, my prince,”

His eyes glittered. “Surely unimportant matters would not hold your attention so much so that you would almost walk straight into a prince?”

You bit your lip. “I meant that my thoughts would hold nothing of import to you, your Highness,” 

The prince tilted his head consideringly. “Should I not be the judge of that, my lady?”

You rub your left wrist self-consciously. "I was just thinking about the Allmother. I was wondering about the magic she possesses."

Prince Loki smiles. "Is that so? If that is all, I could show you some of the magic she has taught me."

Your heart thunders in your chest. Bad idea, you think. Your father and mother had already warned you on keeping yourself distant from Prince Loki, as he was promised to your sister and not you. So, as curious as you are, you turn him down. "I'm sorry, your highness, but I'm afraid I have to take my leave, for I was planning to discuss something with my sister." Not altogether incorrect, you reason, since you had been pondering going over to Sigrid's to talk about what you were going to wear to the ball.

"Ah. Your sister, Sigyn Eriksdottir?"

You blink, confused. "I- well, no, your Highness. I am Sigyn Eriksdottir, my older sister is Sigrid."

The prince's brow furrows. "Ah, my apologies, then, Lady Sigyn. I had seen a portrait of your sister before, and I mistook you for her." He frowned, appraising you slowly and in a way that made your face flush. 

"It's not a problem," You murmur. "I- I hope you have a good rest of the afternoon, your Highness." He looks up and nods, and you dart away, biting your cheek anxiously. Hopefully you hadn't made too big of a fool of yourself. You'd hate to shame your family and ruin your sister's chance at becoming royalty, after all.


	2. The Ball

“Sigrid, remember, be polite, be kind, be likable,” Your mother murmured as she, your father, Sigrid, and you strolled down the hallway to where the feast and ball was to be held. She then turned to you. “Same thing with you, Sigyn, but stay under the radar. This is your sister’s night,” You didn’t bother responding.

The room was even grander than you had expected; it truly was a marvel. Sigrid scoffed at the excessiveness, earning her a scowl from your father. 

The Allfather stood as your family approached, followed by his wife and sons. “Greetings, Lord Erik Njalsson, Lady Anselma Halvorsdottir, Lady Sigrid Eriksdottir, and Lady Sigyn Eriksdottir. We are most pleased to have you all join us for the celebrations tonight.”

You kept your eyes firmly looking forward, even though you felt the curious weight of Prince Loki’s gaze on you. 

Your parents were seated first, and then your sister on Prince Loki's right side. You sat next to your sister at the end of the table. Well, at least you didn't have to engage in too much conversation. Your thoughts wandered as your sister politely conversed with her fiancé, but you weren't to be preoccupied for too long, it seemed.

"Lady Sigyn," The dark prince called. "Has your stay been satisfactory so far?"

You force a pleasant but bland smile onto your face. "Yes, very much so, your Highness, it has far exceeded my expectations," You internally cringe at your words. Of course it exceeded your expectations, you were just a minor noble after all, nothing too important. And it's not like he should care about your expectations. To further your apprehension, your mother shot you a warning look from across the table.

"I am glad to hear so. Tell me, is there a particular area of the palace you are most fond of?"

Stop talking, you think. Please. "I... rather enjoy the gardens, your Highness. They are most beautiful. And... though I haven't yet had the pleasure of doing so, I think I would perhaps like to spend an afternoon reading in the royal library."

"Ah. Two of my favorite places as well," Prince Loki said, tilting his cup slightly toward you. "Do you have a favorite book?"

"No, your Highness, but I do rather enjoy historical books, particularly about other realms,"

"Indeed?" He mused. "Do you have a favorite realm, then?"

"Midgard has always fascinated me, your Highness. It is a wonder that Midgardian technology is so primitive, yet its culture is so rich and unique." You respond, hoping that he doesn't ask many more questions. 

He smiles, his expression unreadable, and goes back to talking with your sister. 

Your stomach twists. Just as you reach for your cup of wine, a tall, classically handsome man approaches you with a charming smile. "Good evening, my lady. Would you honor me with a dance?" You glance over at your parents, but they are busy talking to the king and queen. Oh well, you think. It is a ball after all. 

"Certainly, Lord...?"

The man chuckled. "Just Fandral, darling," He says, winking. 

Fandral is a good dancer and an incessant flirter. By the time he leads you to a spot on the dance floor, he has already complimented you five times. In truth, he bores you a little. You'd much prefer a conversation with depth. With intellect. After the dance ends, you politely excuse yourself. He grabs onto you, asking for another dance as the next song begins, but you refuse and gently disentangle yourself from his grip.

On your way back to the table, you see your sister dancing with Prince Loki. As you watch, she turns gracefully so that her back is to you, and Loki's eyes connect with yours. His lips quirk up a little, and you return his smile. The song reaches its end, and you tear your gaze away from the prince's. As you turn away, however, you collide with someone. A very muscular someone that doesn't even bother to apologize. Before you fall, a cool hand lands on your elbow and tugs you away from the dance floor.

"Are you alright?" A soft, silky voice asks. Your stomach flips.

"Yes, your Highness, I'm quite alright, thank you." You say, but he doesn't let go of you.

"I'm afraid my brother may have hurt you. He is not the most well-mannered or gentle, I'm afraid," 

"It's alright, your Highness, I should have been more careful. There were a lot of people around, most of them dancing. I... was distracted."

His eyes sparkle with amusement, recalling why you had been distracted, and you blush. "Are you enjoying the ball?"

You swallow. "Yes, your Highness, it has been quite entertaining so far." No, it hasn't really, but you can't tell that to one of your hosts.

He raises his eyebrows, and you remember, belatedly, that detecting lies comes as easily to him as breathing. Before you can say anything else, however, he pulls you out of the room by a side door and onto a large balcony with a perfect view of the night sky. 

"Your Highness?" You question.

He gives you a small smile. "Dances and feasts aren't really suited for me, either. Neither, really, is your sister,"

Your stomach drops. "I'm sorry, your Highness-"

He chuckles. "You don't have to use my title every time you speak to me, Lady Sigyn," He tells you. "In fact, I would ask you to refrain from doing so,"

You tilt your head, and before you can stop yourself, you say, "Then I must ask you to do the same for me," You wince at your words, but before you can apologize, Loki cuts in.

"Very well, then, Sigyn." He says, and the sound of your name, and only your name, on his lips makes your stomach twist, but not in an unpleasant manner. "Would you like to talk with me?"

You blink in surprise. "I'm talking with you right now, Loki. If it pleases you, I shall continue to do so." Saying his name, and only his name, feels so strange, you think.

He smiles. "That's your response? Not that I ought to be with your sister right now? Not that you do not think it appropriate?"

"You said that my sister did not suit you."

"Yet she is my betrothed."

"By an arranged marriage," You point out. "That doesn't mean you have to love her, or learn to love her."

"Do you believe that I will learn to love her?" He asks, something in his eyes shifting. 

"I hope so, for the sake of your future, and hers," You tell him honestly. As nasty and self-absorbed as your sister can be sometimes, you want her to have a happy ending.

He laughs a little. "Very well, then, Sigyn."

After a brief pause, you hesitantly say, "Despite my earlier response, I do believe that this isn't quite... appropriate." You know that your mother and father will be irate if they find you out here. 

He nods. "I will not keep you. Head back in, if you wish," With that, he turns away, gazing up at the brilliant stars above.

You walk towards the elegant doors, mentally making up excuses to tell your parents if they ask where you had been, but before you can slip back in, Loki says one last thing.

"Thank you, Sigyn,"

You bite your lip, smile even though he cannot see you, and leave.


	3. Sisterly Talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank all of you lovelies for reading, and especially thank you to CrowKing for also commenting!

The rest of the ball was uneventful; you danced with several more partners whose names you forgot instantly. You notice your sister talking and blatantly flirting with Prince Thor, touching his chest and twirling her hair around her fingers. The sight makes you want to throw up.

As soon as it is polite to excuse yourself, you do so, bidding the Allfather and Allmother a good night. Loki, you notice, is nowhere to be found.

As you walk down the hall toward your room, you hear a voice, out of breath from obviously running to catch up with you, call your name. Surprised, you turn around. “Sigrid? What is it, sister?”

Sigrid grabs your elbow and pulls you into your room. You yelp in surprise as she closes the door. “We need to talk,” She says abruptly, her eyes flicking over your room, assessing, judging, criticizing.

You sit down in a chair by the fireplace, and Sigrid carefully sits down across from you. “So,” You say, opening up your arms. “What was it you wanted to talk about?”

“Well,” Sigrid started primly, crossing her legs. “You know that I would much rather marry Prince Thor than Prince Loki,”

“Yes, but Sigrid-“

“Hush, Sigyn. I talked with Prince Loki, and he’s not too thrilled with the idea either.”

“Because he hardly knows you, Sigrid, he was forced into this just as much as you were!” You exclaim.

“Oh, come on, Sigyn. Even so, you get on much better with him. You two have common interests, and he clearly likes you more than me,”

You gape at her. “How would you know that? You’ve only seen us interact once!” As soon as you finish speaking, you realize your mistake and belatedly clap your hand over your mouth.

Sigrid seems unfazed. “So I was correct, then, in assuming that you’ve interacted more than once. Probably more than twice, really, since he caught you before you were barreled over by Prince Thor,” 

You stare at her, still unsure as to what direction this is going. "He has been polite,"

Sigrid snorted in a most unladylike fashion. "He likes you more."

"His being polite to me doesn't mean he likes me at all, it means he's a gentleman," You reply evenly. 

"Sigyn, I'm perfectly fine with him liking you more, in fact, I would rather that. Maybe it will get me out of this stupid arrangement," Your sister continues as though you haven't spoken.

You cough. "What?" Your ears must be dysfunctional. Either that, or you have very vivid dreams. "If it had been Prince Thor rather than Prince Loki you were marrying, would you call it a stupid arrangement?"

She scoffs. "No girl in her right mind would call that a stupid arrangement. He's the crown prince, after all,"

You stare at her in shock, even though you know how power-obsessed she can be. "So all you're after is a position? If Prince Loki were the crown prince, you would choose him, wouldn't you?"

"I don't have a choice in the matter," Sigrid snapped. "You know me, Sigyn. I'm not the kindest, nor the sweetest, because that's not who I am. I know what I want. Sentiment is for fools."

You shake your head. "You don't know Prince Thor. What if you end up disliking him? Hating him? Absolutely loathing him? In addition, Sigrid, there could be a very good reason as to why you are engaged to Prince Loki, not Prince Thor. You cannot just go against the wishes of the All-father."

"Not directly, no," Sigrid says, shrugging as though she's talking about the weather rather than disobeying her king. "But there's always a way out."

You throw your hands up in exasperation. "To you, yes, there always is one. But Sigrid, say it all works out. Prince Loki is happy, the All-father and All-mother are happy, our parents are happy, and you're married to Prince Thor, like you want. But what if you despise Prince Thor? What if you two are utterly incompatible? What if you two can't stand each other? What if he forces himself on you? Abuses you?"

Sigrid's nostrils flare. "Why didn't you ask these questions when you found out I was engaged to Prince Loki, sister?" She asks, hissing the word sister as though it is a curse. "Why do you care now, when it comes to the elder prince?"

You groan. "Because I didn't think there was a way out, Sigrid! But this... whatever this is, Sigrid, you don't have to do it! You don't have to fight against the betrothal!"

"Yes, I suppose I could sit back and let this all unfold, just as you would. Because you never act, Sigyn, you just sit there, smile like a toy doll, bite your tongue to prevent the truth from spilling out, and nod prettily to show your docile assent."

Sigrid's words sting because they are true. Your fists clench helplessly, your pupils dilate. Sigrid, you think, has always been the braver one. Bold, even in the face of danger. Completely unafraid. When you were younger, she had always defended you fiercely. Unabashedly. But she had never forgotten herself. Never forgotten what she wanted. And you were often used as her pawn, sometimes unknowingly.

"Look, Sigyn, I didn't just come here to vent. I, unlike you, don't bottle things up. I don't sit on my frustration, I do something about it. And I am asking you to help me," She looks at you, annoyed but earnest.

You swallow. "How could I help you with this? Yes, Sigrid, I may be a coward, but I know my place. I will not anger Mother and Father, and especially not the royal-"

"Mother and Father will be epically pleased if I marry Prince Thor. Much more so than if I marry Prince Loki."

You rub your eyes in exasperation. Undeterred, Sigrid presses on.

"I can see that you are tired, so I will make this quick. I will try to get closer to Prince Thor, and the king and queen. Once they see how good I am with their eldest son, and how good I can be as the next queen, I am sure that they will change their minds and the marriage. You, on the other hand, ought to keep Mother and Father busy so that they don't catch on. As pleased as they will be if this succeeds, and, trust me, they will be, they won't approve of this plan."

"I wonder why," You mutter sarcastically. 

Sigrid merely raises an eyebrow in response. "Oh, so you do have some bite to you after all, sister. I'm rather pleased. Look, if all does not go well, I'll never tell a soul that you were involved. I'll take any punishment. I'll protect you, as I always have."

You bite your tongue to keep from telling her that you don't need her protection, even though, deep down, you still want it. "Fine, I'll do what I can," You mumble, casting your eyes to the ground, knowing that you're only agreeing because you don't believe that she'll succeed. How could she, after all? The thought is ludicrous. 

Sigrid smiles and rises, looking down upon you. "Good night, then, Sigyn." She says, voice suddenly warm and cordial. You don't look up until she leaves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know there wasn't any Loki in this chapter, but he'll be in the next one :)


	4. Tea and Trouble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading and for the beautiful comments!

You wake up surprisingly early and stretch. Even though you're not much of a morning person, you don't want to go back to bed because you doubt you'll fall back asleep, so you decide to get up and take a walk in the gardens.

As you dress yourself, not bothering to call for a servant, you let your thoughts wander back to what Sigrid's asked of you. It's not like it's insanely difficult or suspicious, but most of you still balks at the thought of doing it. Sigrid can't really expect you to support her on this, can she?

You sigh and straighten, heading for the door. As you open it and step out, you almost trip over an emerald green parcel outside your door. You frown, picking it up, wondering what it could be and who could have sent it. You carefully open it and peer inside.

There are two dark green, leather-bound books, obviously new, and obviously of high quality. You bite your lip as you finger the title of one. They seem to be a collection of works by a single man by the name of William Shakespeare. You dimly recall the name from somewhere, a Midgardian poet and playwright, you believe. As you open the first volume, a small note, written in elegant script on a shining piece of golden paper, catches your eye.

You read it, smile before you can stop yourself, and tuck it back into the book before sliding the parcel, with its contents, into your bedroom.

You walk down the hallways, wondering what you are to do today. You're guessing that Prince Loki will probably be obligated to take Sigrid out on a proper date, so you probably won't have to do much in the way of distracting your parents. Well, you think, if nothing else, you can at least start on the books your sister's fiancé so kindly gave you.

You reach the gardens and stroll into them, humming softly under your breath. Lost in your thoughts again, you don't notice Prince Loki until he greets you.

"Good morning, Lady Sigyn," He says.

"Good morning, Prince Loki," You say, hesitating slightly. He had asked you to forgo his title last night, but he had called you by yours just now, so you opted to add on his title.

"Did you have a pleasant rest, my lady?"

"Very much so, thank you, your Highness," You reply mildly. "In addition, thank you for the books, I look forward to reading them."

"Ah, you are quite welcome, William Shakespeare is one of my favorite writers of all time. Maybe we can discuss his works and style after you've finished reading a bit?" He asks cordially, and you fight down a blush, recalling your sister's insistence that he likes you.

"If it wouldn't be too much trouble, I would love to," 

He smiles. "Do you have any plans for today?"

"Not particularly, do you?"

"I have a meeting with my father and his council today, unfortunately. In the evening, I may take a walk with your sister, if she would be so kind as to indulge me. There is... much to discuss."

"Of course," You say, your tone forcibly bright. "I'm sure she would not mind,"

He nods, his expression affable and pleasant, but also very distant. How could Sigrid have ever thought he liked you? He was just being a perfect gentleman. "I must take my leave of you, my lady. My father requested that my brother and I come talk to him before breakfast and the meeting, and I should not want to arrive late,"

"Of course, I will not keep you," You say, echoing his words from last night.

At that, his cordial smile shifts to something much more familiar, much more mischievous, and he leans over you to take your hand and kiss it. "Farewell, Sigyn," He breathes, and leaves.

After awhile, you head back, and barely a moment later, your maid arrives with an invitation for tea with the Queen. Well, really, it encompasses breakfast, but the invitation is for tea.

"Who else got an invitation?" You ask.

"Lady Anselma and Lady Sigrid," The maid says softly.

Not surprised, you nod and let out a long breath. It's going to be an interesting morning.

When you arrive, your mother is already seated, talking animatedly with Queen Frigga. Your sister, you note, is not there yet. The Allmother looks up and smiles at you. You curtsy. "Good morning, your majesty."

"Please have a seat, Lady Sigyn," She responds warmly. "Was last night's feast and ball to your liking?"

You hesitated. Surely the queen could not detect a lie like her son, could she? "The food was most delicious, your Majesty," You say. "And the ballroom was resplendent,"

The queen laughed, the sound honeyed and rich and genuine. "I am glad to hear so," 

For the next few minutes, as servants carry in trays laden with fruits, bread, cakes, and vegetables, you, your mother and the queen converse about everything from the recent weather to the relations with the other realms. The queen is in the middle of discussing the upcoming trip to Vanaheim when your sister, with a disgustingly saccharine smile plastered to her face, enters. 

"I apologize, your Majesty, for my tardiness," Sigrid says, curtsying much lower than you had before. Your mother shoots her a disapproving glance.

"It is quite alright, my dear, please sit down," Queen Frigga says politely. "Did you enjoy the feast and ball last night?"

"Oh, it was wonderful, your Majesty," Sigrid replies, sighing deeply as though entranced by the whole ordeal. "I have always loved dances, and, I must say, last night's was the most splendid I had ever been to!" At least she wasn't lying about that part, you muse. 

"Even better than the ones on Vanaheim? I hear that, due to your father's closeness to the Vanir royalty, you attended an abundance of dances there," Queen Frigga says, smiling softly, but with a touch of mischief that reminds you of her younger son.

Sigrid freezes for a moment before regaining herself, her smile widening. "Oh, yes, your Majesty, the Vanir are very refined but can also be very closed off. Their balls had not the expressiveness, the brilliance, of last night's."

The queen nods and turns the topic of conversation back round to the trip to Vanaheim. After some brief talk about the political climate and the Vanir royals, she says, "We won't be going for another few weeks, of course, but my husband and I discussed it last night and would like to invite you three and Lord Erik to accompany us. Lord Erik has already been informed and said that he will go if you three agree to."

Sigrid grins in anticipation before catching herself and replacing it with a much milder smile. But before she can speak, your mother cuts in.

"We would be delighted to go," She says. "We are familiar with the Vanir and the royal palace; it would be a great pleasure to accompany you, the All-father, and the princes to Vanaheim,"

"Excellent." The queen beams. "Then it is settled."

The rest of breakfast/tea is uneventful, and soon the queen rises with a rueful smile. "I am afraid that I have duties to attend to now, but I will see you all soon for lunch. I hope you ladies have a lovely rest of the day," 

The three of you rise, bidding her a lovely day as well before leaving. 

The rest of the day is rather lovely, if uneventful. You spend the rest of the morning with your mother, walking with her around the palace, before going to the dining hall for lunch. The Allfather and the princes, the Allmother informs you and your mother when you arrive for lunch, are still at their meeting and will not be taking lunch in the dining hall. 

The afternoon ticks by slowly as you read one of the books you had been gifted with in the library. By the time dinnertime has arrived, you are almost done with the first one, having gone back to reread several times. You marvel over the beauty of the phrases, the craftiness of the insults, and the seamless development of the interesting characters in the writings of Shakespeare, easily understanding why the prince would like the Midgardian. You wonder if he's ever met the man, for he surely has made trips to Midgard before.

The Allfather and the princes do show up for dinner, but it is rather late when they do, so much so, in fact, that your parents have already left, and you are preparing to leave. Prince Loki catches your eye as you stand and winks discreetly- actually winks- and you hurry and leave before you are caught blushing. He is, after all, currently still your sister's fiancé. 

You take another stroll in the gardens before heading back, eager to get back to reading the Shakespearean works when suddenly, a muscular arm is flung around your waist and you are tugged against a very intoxicated male. 

A charming but slurred voice sounds next to your ear, blowing uncomfortably hot breath over your face. "Good evening, darling," Fandral says before kissing behind your ear. 

You squirm, face heating in displeasure. "Please let go," You say, as calmly as you can manage, not wanting to anger him. 

He laughs drunkenly, almost stumbling. "Playing hard to get is sweet, little one, but letting go is sweeter," He says, his lips trailing down your neck. 

You struggle, wondering what to do, when, just as suddenly as Fandral had appeared, Sigrid shows up, her voice slicing authoriatively through the hallway. 

"Let go of her, you disgusting piece of slime!" She snarls as she sees you struggling, the very picture of a terrifyingly protective older sibling. Fandral seems to sense that she is not nearly as timid as you are, and that dire consequences will arise should he disobey, so he wisely lets you go and hobbles away unsteadily. 

Sigrid then turns to you. "Sigyn! What do you think you were doing?"

You gape, astonished. "I wasn't doing anything, Sigrid! He just came at me, and I couldn't do anything, I promise!"

She groans, pinching the bridge of her nose. "That's right, Sigyn, you never do anything. It's always up to me to save your miserable behind, isn't it?"

You wince. "I told him to let me go, Sigrid, I didn't want to cause trouble-"

"As always,"

"-but I wasn't going to sit back and just let him have his way with me, either," You finish uncertainly. 

"Oh, joy, Sigyn." Sigrid states sarcastically. "You timidly told him to let you go, you might as well have just said nothing for all the effect that had!"

Now, rage boiled up in you, potent and fierce. "Well, I was going to be firmer, but then you showed up and took care of it, as always, so I'm sorry I didn't get the chance to do or say something much more drastic!"

Sigrid rolls her eyes disbelievingly. "Alright, Sigyn," She says dryly. "If that's what you insist, then far be it from me to contradict." She then stalks off, huffing.

You stare after her in enraged disbelief. How dare she talk to you in that way, as though you were a foolish child she didn't want to handle? If you were so frustrating and you caused so much trouble, then why did she bother saving you every time? 

You stalk back to your room, huffing as well, and dismiss the maid that was straightening up your suite. Taking one look at your reddened face, she leaves hurriedly. Not bothering to change out of your dress, you storm through the living room, splash some water on your face in the bathroom, and fling yourself on the bed, willing yourself to fall asleep as soon as possible.


	5. Training with the Thunderer

Breakfast the next morning was terribly awkward, or at least it was for you. The Allfather did not show up, and you were ignored for most of breakfast, especially by Sigrid. In all honesty, she could probably make ignoring you a sport. 

The more you reflected upon last night’s happenings, the angrier you became, not so much at Sigrid, but at Fandral, the idiot, and yourself. Why had you been so awfully polite and meek when addressing him? Where was your dignity? Your ability to defend yourself? It was true that, as a noble lady, you had never had cause to learn to fight, but neither had Sigrid and Fandral had backed off at her command.

The anger and frustration built up until, finally, you could not stand it anymore and you leaned across the table, looking directly at Prince Thor, who was busy in conversation with your mother. Without thinking, you address him. “Your Highness, I was wondering what plans you had for today,”

Prince Thor looks rather taken aback, but recovers quickly with an amicable smile. “I was going to train for most of the day, to be honest. What with all the events happening recently, I haven’t had much of a chance to just train with my friends, the Warriors Three and Lady Sif.”

From the corner of your right eye, you can see your mother trying to catch your gaze, but you deliberately keep your eyes glued to Prince Thor’s. “I apologize for my… forwardness in asking, but I was wondering if I could possibly observe your training session and maybe learn a few defense mechanisms, in case I need to defend myself one day.”

You can practically feel the embarrassment radiating off of your mother, and you are quite certain that, if it were possible, Sigrid would have drilled a hole in your head by her glare alone, but you pay them no heed. 

Prince Thor, however, seems entirely unaware of the tension and heat in the air, for he responds quite cheerily. “My friends and I would be most pleased to, my lady. Lady Sif has always said that more females ought to learn at least some combat, if only to protect themselves from possible attacks by bandits or petty thieves and such,”

You smile, thinking of how differently last night’s events would have gone if you’d known how to defend yourself. “Thank you, your Highness. I am much obliged to you and your good friends,”

When you turn back to your food, Sigrid's hand clamps down upon your leg under the table. She leans in, hissing at you. "Sigyn, you fool, what are you thinking?"

You turn an insolent gaze upon her. "That you won't have to rescue me all the time, sister," You say sweetly with thinly veiled venom. Neither you nor Sigrid see Prince Loki's amused gaze upon the two of you.

Sigrid, luckily enough for you, has to go out with Prince Loki, so you simply follow Prince Thor down to the training grounds after breakfast. He talks animatedly about his exploits in battle and his friends. You nod and smile occasionally, not really paying attention until he mentions a name that almost makes you halt in your tracks. You turn, horror sinking into you as you realize that Fandral is one of his friends, one of the Warriors Three that you had heard so much about, even before you'd come to the city. You just hadn't known their names...

By that time, you and the elder prince had already arrived at the training grounds, and you couldn't turn back. 

"Thor!" Volstagg, a stocky, red-haired man, shouts. "And who have you brought?"

"A fair maiden!" Fandral's smug voice calls. "Why, this is interesting, Thor,"

But then you and Thor draw clower, and Fandral's smirk disappears immediately when he gets a good look at you. It was almost laughable, how quickly his expression changed from one of amusement to one of dread, but laughing was the last thing you could possibly do at that time. 

Volstagg claps a hand on Thor's broad shoulder. "What took you so long, my friend?"

Thor smiled. "One of my family's guests, the fair Lady Sigyn, asked me to teach her some basic defensive moves in the case she was attacked," Fandral's face pales. 

"Good morning, Thor, Lady Sigyn," Lady Sif says coolly, but not unkindly. "And, Fandral, whatever is the matter?"

Fandral quickly forces a bright smile to his face. "Nothing, dear Sif, everything is... quite alright," 

Lady Sif looks unconvinced but moves on. "So, defense mechanisms, is it, Lady Sigyn?"

"Please," You say. "Just call me Sigyn,"

She inclines her head. "Very well, if only you will call me Sif," 

You start off watching as they do drills and warm ups, joking and laughing with each other, even though Fandral seems to be forcing himself to go through the usual motions. Savage amusement tears through you as you see him struggling to maintain his usual flippant demeanor. 

Then they really start training, and Sif walks toward you. "So, just basic defense moves?" She asked, eyes glinting.

You swallow down your nervousness. "Anything you think I can handle," You tell her honestly. She smiles.

You find yourself somehow enjoying the training, even if it is grueling. Sif teaches you far more than you thought she would, pushing you to your limits. Even after two hours, she's still not done. You've moved on to daggers, and you find yourself surprisingly adept at them, especially when it comes to throwing. Even Hogun, with his grim countenance that suggests he's never smiled before, looks impressed, if a bit grudgingly so.

Volstagg excuses himself, saying something about a sore stomach, and Fandral looks after him longingly, clearly wanting to leave as well. This does not go unnoticed by Sif, and her sharp gray eyes narrow on the back of Fandral's head.

Then, a shout from Prince Thor draws Sif's attention away. "Brother!" He cries, flinging his arms out in enthusiastic welcome. "Have you come to train with us?" For, indeed, it is Prince Loki, accompanied by Sigrid, who is stiffly hanging onto his arm. 

Prince Loki smiles lazily. "Lady Sigrid wanted to see you train," His eyes slowly take in the scene before him, flicking past Fandral and Hogun and Sif disinterestedly before coming to rest on you. His eyebrows raise as he takes in your sweaty forehead, your flushed cheeks, your slightly messy hair, and your clenched fingers holding Sif's daggers. 

Prince Thor smiles and bows. "Well, then, I'm sure I can manage a few more rounds," With that said, he and Sif square off. You hand Sif back her daggers and retreat a little farther off, giving them space. Sigrid lets go of Prince Loki's arm, not bothering to even look back as she eagerly steps forth to better observe the fight.

They begin, and you are utterly entranced. Prince Thor's strikes are hard and strong, but Sif's are quicker and better placed. Her movements are lithe and full of grace, and her eyes scan her opponent analytically so as to not miss a single opportunity or opening. 

"How was training, my lady?" The smooth voice of Prince Loki sounds slightly behind you.

You allow yourself a small smile. "Far more satisfying that I would have thought," You admit.

"May I ask why you showed an interest in combative training today?"

"How do you know I didn't have an interest in it before? Perhaps I only just worked up the nerve to ask," You shoot back.

A light laugh. "Did you?"

"Not really," You say. "I was always the perfect little girl that did what her parents expected. I thought my actions and decisions were of my own will, but now I think it had more to do with social constraints and pressures." You have no idea where the words you're saying are coming from. You've never said anything like this before, yet, here you are, opening up to your sister's betrothed, of all people, and a prince, no less. 

"And what of your sister?"

You bite back a grin at the thought of your headstrong sister in her youth. She'd been wild and rebellious, unable to be tamed. "What do you think?"

"I think that she is brave and strong, rather like my brother. Reckless and impatient as well, but no finesse. Little to no intellect. I daresay that, if she had trained with you, her accuracy with a dagger would be far inferior to yours,"

"Well, you're not far off, though you can't possibly know about my or her accuracy with daggers since you just arrived," You reply. "But I do think she is intelligent, more so than most give her credit for."

"Very well then. But you still didn't answer my second question." He prompts you. 

You sigh. "I just don't want to be caught unawares, your Highness. The thought of being defenseless against an assailant terrifies me," 

"Not the whole truth, I suspect." Prince Loki muses, but then the fight ends with Sif pinning Prince Thor against a tree. 

You hurriedly rush over, congratulating Sif as Sigrid simpers over Prince Thor. 

Prince Thor and Sif clasp hands, smiling. "Well, my friend, it seems you have bested me yet again." The prince says jovially, with not a hint of spite.

Sif's smile is more subdued, but no less warm. "Yes, you still fall for that maneuver, you fool. Clearly you need more training,"

The prince chortled. 

"It is almost lunch time. We should head back in," Prince Loki says, coming to stand right next to you. 

"Yes, of course," The elder Odinson replied. "Come, brother, Hogun, Fandral, Sif, Lady Sigrid, Lady Sigyn," He said, gesturing forward. As he engaged in a conversation with his brother and Lady Sigrid, Sif hung back, her hand coming to gently rest on your forearm. 

"Here," She said, offering you one of her gleaming daggers in a leather sheath with her other hand. "Keep it," 

You gasped. "Sif! I could not possibly take that, I am not nearly trained enough, it is not proper-"

She snorted. "It is not proper for a lady to be a warrior, yet here I am."

You glance at her face to see if she is jesting, but she seems to be entirely serious, so you hesitantly reach your hand out to take it. Sif retracts her hand immediately once you have a firm grip on it, giving you no opportunity to hand it back. She steps back, gives you a strange, appraising smile, and quickens her pace to catch up with the others. Well, you think, at least you won't have to worry about Fandral anymore.


	6. Midnight Musings

The rest of the day is pleasant, if not nearly as exciting as the morning. You, as per Sigrid’s request, keep your parents busy while she squeezes herself into Queen Frigga’s afternoon, enacting her plan. 

Your mother scolds you thoroughly for participating in training, but your father doesn’t seem to care, so she lets go of it after a while. She turns to the topic of the upcoming trip to Vanaheim and then Sigrid’s wedding, which, to her aggravation, still doesn’t have a date. 

“I just don’t understand!” Your mother rants. “Why would the Allfather and Allmother, bless their souls, have us come here before the wedding had really begun to be arranged?”

“Should you not be pleased with the arrangements?” Your father asked dispassionately. “You get to stay in the royal palace for longer,”

“But, Father, what about you? You have always said you do not like it here, in the capital city,” You say. He shrugs.

“Yes, yes, you’re right, Erik,” Your mother says breathlessly. “I should not complain,”

“Anyways,” Your father says. “There is a banquet tonight,”

“For what purpose?” You ask.

“The royals frequently throw lavish, useless banquets,” Your father answers in a bored tone. “No certain purpose other than to show off,”

“Oh!” Your mother cries. “Whatever shall I wear?”

The banquet is far more raucous than the feast that you had attended on your first night; it is almost wild and unrefined, certainly not something ever to be found on Vanaheim. After only two hours, Prince Thor and his friends, save Sif, are all intoxicated. Prince Loki, however, only drinks enough wine as is necessary for propriety. He seems not even the slightest befuddled. 

Much to your surprise, Fandral approaches where you sit with misty, pleading eyes. Fortunately, he does not seem to be as drunk as he was last night. “My lady, I must apologize for my unwelcome actions toward you last night, they were inexcusable, and I assure you only because I had drunk a significant amount of ale,”

You regard him coolly, sipping from a cup of water. “Then perhaps you should not indulge in so much ale next time,”

Fandral bites his lip. “I truly am sorry-“

“I accept your apology,” You say stiffly. “And, I see, you’ve made quite an improvement, from making unwanted advances toward others to apologizing for said advances, while under the dreadful influence of alcohol,” 

You walk away before he can answer, thinking that it is now an appropriate time to leave. No one will miss you, you are sure. 

Once you are walking down the hall toward your room, you hear a shout. And then Fandral, the idiot, runs up to you, panting heavily, slightly unsteady on his feet. You stiffen, angered and afraid. “What do you want?” You ask coldly.

“To talk with you, my dear,” He responds in between trying to catch his breath.

“I’m not your dear, and no, I will not talk to you,”

“Please, just hear me out,” He pleaded. “I only pursued you last night because I found you attractive!”

You stare at him incredulously. “Pursued? What, exactly, is your definition of pursued? And I do not care if you find me attractive, that is no excuse!”

He latches onto your arm. “I know, but-“

“No,” You snap, pulling away harshly. “I will not listen to your ramblings. I have no interest in hearing you out,”

“But-“

“The lady said no, Fandral, something even a young child could understand,” A dangerously low voice says, ringing throughout the dim hallway. The younger prince, you think.

Fandral stumbles back, muttering curses as he scrambles away. You turn, tilting your head as you gaze at Prince Loki. His expression is frigid, and his eyes are a swirling dark green storm of anger as he gazes at the spot Fandral had previously occupied.

“Your Highness?” You ask quietly. “What are you doing here?”

He turns to you, a slight smile on his handsome face. “Helping you, it seems,” 

Thankfully, he had said helping and not saving. “Thank you, then, your Highness,”

He nods. “I take it this feast was just as bad as the last one?”

You laugh. “The last one wasn’t all bad,” You say truthfullly, thinking of your conversation with him.

He raises an eyebrow, and you wonder if he knows what you were thinking. “Would you care to confess what part of the evening ensured it didn’t turn out all bad?” 

Your eyes sparkle. “If you’ll consent to confess something to me as well, your Highness,”

His eyes mirror your amusement. “Very well,”

“I liked conversing with you out on the balcony, for it was easy and natural,”

He raises an eyebrow, and you think you catch a hint of repressed sadness in his beautiful eyes. “I do not believe that I have ever heard someone say it was easy to talk to me,”

“Oh, come on,” You say playfully. “Surely someone must find you easy to converse with, especially in comparison to your oafish brother,” You pause, lowering your gaze, slightly mortified that you just described Prince Thor as oafish. “If you’ll pardon my description of your brother,” You murmur.

A slender finger touches your chin and lifts your face to his. Bemusement shines in his green orbs. “Of course,” He says. “I’d be a hypocrite not to, seeing as I frequently call him an oaf, and worse,” He whispers that last part, winking, as though it is a secret. 

Your face warms. Hurriedly, you say, “I do believe, my prince, that it is time for you to fulfill your end of the bargain,” 

“Is there a certain question you’d like me to answer?” He asks, eyes bright. 

“What do you think of my sister?”

He huffs, frowning slightly, his eyes dimming a little. “I suppose she is… agreeable enough. Though she sometimes acts like she forces herself to be even polite to me,”

Your heart thuds painfully. “And why is that?”

His frown deepens. “Whenever we are together… she always asks about Thor, fawns over Thor, sings Thor’s praises… it is clear that she, like so many others, favors my golden brother,” He says, bitterness creeping into his tone.

Sympathy wells up in you, but you push it down, instinctively knowing that he will not react well to anything he perceives as pity. “She doesn’t know you, Loki. I’m sure that if she did, she would act more favorably toward you,”

A faint smile appears on Loki’s face. “Finally,” He murmurs.

“What?”

“You’ve finally called me by my name again,” He answers. 

“Oh,” You realize. 

“In response to your previous comment, I would like to say, you do not know me, yet you do not act unfavorably toward me,” 

You blink. “Well, that’s because that’s not fair,”

He smiles, but it is a bitter, sad smile. “Life isn’t fair, Sigyn,”

“That doesn’t mean we, as people, should not strive to be,” You counter. “Everyone ought to be given a fair chance,”

“If only everyone’s thought processes were like yours,” He muses. “Would you confess something else to me?”

You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face, though you are sure you look like an idiot. “If you’ll return the favor again, then certainly,”

“Do you prefer my brother over me?” 

“Of course not, Loki. If anything, I should prefer you over him. You and I have common interests. After all, you have not almost knocked me down, you have conversed with me about subjects other than war and your various exploits in battle, and you have gifted me with books. I have almost finished those books, too, and they are wonderful. So you see, I far from prefer your brother over you. I… ” As you had talked, he had looked down, smiling at his feet as a strange joy filled him. Everyone, save his mother, seemed to favor Thor over him, though you did not know that. And you were not lying, for you did not favor Thor. 

Your voice trailed off as you noticed he was not looking at you. You bit your lip, unsure as to what to say, when he looked up, and suddenly you were trapped, finding it hard to breathe. His eyes… you had never seen eyes hold such tenderness. And not only tenderness, but something else. Something you could not quite name. 

“Your turn,” You whisper, fearing yourself to be lost in the emerald sea of his gaze. “I do not have a certain question,”

His answering smile is much softer than all his previous ones, soft and sweet and gentle in a way that makes you feel strangely warm inside. You rather like the feeling. “I confess, Sigyn, that I wish that it was you, and not your sister, I had to marry,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so maybe it wasn't quite midnight, but I liked the title, so... :D
> 
> Do you guys think things are moving too fast? When I reread my work, I thought it was too bland and there wasn't enough bonding, so I tried... I guess... but now I'm not so sure if I should have written it like this


	7. Marketplace Mayhem

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've put it all into one chapter, I hope you guys like it

After Loki's confession to you the last night, your feelings were all over the place, ranging from a strange sort of happiness to terror that others might have overheard your conversation. For the next few days, you diligently avoid him, sometimes even taking meals in your rooms. Even if Sigrid does manage to get engaged to Prince Thor instead, it doesn't mean anything will happen between you and Loki. And you shouldn't want anything to happen, anyways, you've only known him for a few days. Surely romantic feelings cannot arise after a few days. You're merely happy that someone has shown even a modicum of interest in you, that's all, you tell yourself constantly.

Then, one morning, the Allmother announces a plan that she has for the day. "The people are most curious about you, my dear," She says, smiling benevolently at Sigrid. "You are to be a princess, so we must have you introduced favorably to the populace. It would be a good idea to start by walking around with your family and my son in the marketplace, talking with the people, getting to know them, and letting them know you. Later on, closer to your wedding date, I will set up a ball that is open to the public, one that will utilize not only the ballroom but the outdoor gardens and pavilions as well, seeing as there will be quite a lot of people in attendance."

Sigrid dips her head down demurely. "Of course, my queen, that is a most splendid idea."

You can almost see the gears in her head turning. If she gets the people to like her, they won't be opposed to having her as queen. This will be a most important moment.

Then she shoots a quick glance at you, her eyes demanding that you ask the question she wants to know the answer to, since her asking would seem strange and maybe even suspicious.

You clear your throat. "Will anyone else be accompanying us?" Your sister specifically wants to know about Prince Thor, but you do not want to draw attention to yourself by making it seem like you have an interest in the crown prince.

The queen smiles. "You, your family, and my younger son will of course be accompanied by a few royal guards. Not too many, for your family must seem approachable, but enough,"

You nod, looking over in Sigrid's direction to try to gauge her expression, but instead of meeting her blue-grey gaze, your eyes find Loki's emerald-green one. He wears a warm smile, but it seems to be slightly different than the one he usually wears when he's talking with your sister or his family. There's just something different about it, and his eyes, when he looks at you. You don't allow yourself to dwell on this.

The marketplace, you realize in fascinated wonder, is far larger and more beautiful than you could have imagined. When you'd arrived, you'd seen some of it, but you had never really explored it. None of the markets back at your home could compare.

"Miss?" A small voice says, a hand tugging at your skirt, pulling you from your thoughts. You look down curiously. A young girl looks up at you with wide blue eyes and a head full of golden hair. "Are you the princess?"

You laugh softly. This is not the first time someone has mistaken you for your sister. "No, little one, but I am curious as to why you think I am,"

"My mother said that the princess is very beautiful, that princesses are always beautiful, either because of their upbringing or because their princes chose them for being the most beautiful girls, inside and out,"

"Well, in that case, you could very well be a princess yourself one day," You tell her.

The girl's eyes sparkle. "Really?"

"Of course," You say, bending down to her level. You whisper the next words as though they are a secret. "In fact, I believe you would make a far better princess than me,"

"Theora!" A woman's voice calls fervently. "Theora! Theo- oh! There you are, you naughty child!" And then a petite woman, with the same lovely hair as her Theora, comes into view. You straighten. "Theora, you should not run off like that! You gave me quite a fright, you could've been hurt or kidnapped, you impudent- oh!" While she had been reprimanding Theora, she had glanced up and seen you. "Oh, I am so terribly sorry, my lady, I hope she was not too much trouble,"

You smile genuinely. "Of course not, she was wonderful."

The woman then gasped. "Are you- are you our soon-to-be princess, my lady?"

You blink. "I- no, I am not," You say, but the woman has already dropped into a low curtsy.

"Forgive me my horrid manners, your Highness. I- I do not know what came over me, and my daughter! Oh, that troublesome little thing!"

"It really is quite alright, I love children," You tell her kindly and honestly. "And I am not the prince's betrothed, that would be my older sister,"

"Oh!" The woman cries again. "I am so sorry!" She does not seem to be very sorry, however, on the contrary, she looks quite relieved that you are not your sister. You are not bothered by it.

"What is your name?" Theora asks suddenly. "Your Highness," She adds as an afterthought.

"I am Sigyn Eriksdottir, but I am not a princess, little one, there is no need to call me highness,"

"But you are beautiful," Theora says stubbornly. "And kind. I think you ought to be a princess,"

You laugh. "You are much too generous, Theora."

"Well, I am sorry for disturbing you," Theora's mother says. "I hope you have a wonderful day, and I wish you and your family the best of luck. I am sure your sister is just as gorgeous and likable as you, my lady,"

You nod. "Thank you, and have a good day,"

The woman smiles and pulls Theora away, much to her very vocal disappointment.

"She was correct, you know," A soft male voice says from behind you. "You would make a lovely princess, and not just due to your physical appearance,"

You fight back a blush as you turn to look at Loki, that strange smile seemingly reserved only for you present once more on his face. "Thank you, your Highness,"

He raises an eyebrow at your usage of his title, but doesn't press it, probably because you two are in public. "You seem to fare far better than your sister when it comes to children," He says, gesturing toward where your sister is standing stiffly by a fruit stand, being danced around and teased by a group of eager, hyperactive children.

At this, you can't help the smile that spreads over your face. "I have always loved children," You tell him. "Sigrid... doesn't always have the patience for them,"

"Do you want to have a family one day?"

"Not a particularly large one," You admit. "Though I love children, I am daunted by the thought of motherhood. I don't want more than maybe two children, for I fear that an only child may be lonely." You pause. "What about you, your Highness?"

"I found children aggravating when I was younger, but I have recently changed my mind. I think I would like children of my own, though not more than three."

"Did you change your mind because of your upcoming marriage?"

One side of Loki's mouth quirked up deviously, but before he could answer, Sigrid flounced over. 

"Oh, those god-awful children!" She snapped, before quickly lowering her voice, looking around to make sure no one had heard her. "I just- they're impossible!"

Loki's smile had faded even before she had said a word. "I take it that you do not want children, then?" He asked, voice rigid and without a hint of the warmth he had demonstrated to you. 

Sigrid bit the inside of her cheek. If she were to become Prince Thor's bride, she would most certainly have to have children, Prince Thor would have to have heirs, after all. "I did not say that," She replied evasively. 

"Where are Mother and Father?" You ask, changing the subject.

"Mother is shopping, I believe, and Father is probably hiding, not wanting to converse with the citizens," Sigrid says, raising her chin in disdain. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I must go talk with the citizens of Asgard. Hopefully there will not be any more unruly children,"

You had to bite back an exasperated sigh. She was the one who had come over, but she was the one pompously asking, if it could be called asking, to be excused. 

"I will go with you," Loki said smoothly, stepping forward.

You weren't sure who was more surprised, you or Sigrid. Sigrid set her lips into a thin line, but, knowing that she could not refuse or cause a scene, she nodded curtly. You shoved down a strange swell of disappointment, knowing that it was Loki's duty as a prince and as Sigrid's fiancé.

Before he and Sigrid left, he turns back to you, smiling that special smile again. Then he and Sigrid depart into the mass of people desperate to catch a glimpse of their prince and his princess.

You talk to some of the people at the market and end up buying a few small things. You are mistaken as the soon-to-be princess several more times, but you don't really mind. After all, it is kind of a compliment.

You are about to go up to a young boy that is sitting against a wall next to a shop, looking lost, when you hear a faint, muffled shriek from close by. Frowning, you turn and notice that you're right next to an alley, and that, near the end of it, there are two large, burly men and a girl, not much younger than you. 

Curious and slightly suspicious, you call out to them, hoping that no one's hurt. As soon as the men hear your voice, they start to run, dragging the poor girl along with them. 

In hindsight, it was a terrible idea. But you were just too focused on getting to the girl to get help or anything. You had never faced a situation like this, and you had never thought you would be this foolishly reckless in a situation like this. But there you are, running madly after the men, unarmed and mostly untrained. 

Just as you think you can't catch up with them, they turn abruptly, once more in an alleyway, each man with a knife in his hand. And then you realize just how stupid you had been. You're lost, in a city that is unfamiliar to you despite being your birthplace, and you have nothing to defend yourself with. Not to mention that there is no one around to hear. The girl's piercing, unanswered screams have told you that much already. Don't do anything ridiculous, you tell yourself as you hold your hands up. They don't have you cornered yet, and you can't afford to do anything stupid again. 

"Leave," The taller of the men snarls at you, brandishing his knife. He seems to wield it sloppily, but his grip is firm and sure. He probably sees the mice scuttling around as bigger threats than you right now.

"Is she okay?" You ask, managing to keep your voice from wavering.

The other man snorted, and his partner shot him a fierce glare. "She's fine, we're just having a little fun," The taller one snaps. 

You try to bite back your next words, but they slip out anyway. "Is that why she was screaming in fear?" You curse yourself internally. You used to be so good at keeping your inner thoughts back. 

The men sneer. "What's it to you? You going to hurt us if she doesn't like it?"

"Don't do this," You say softly, taking a miniscule step forward. "She doesn't deserve it,"

The man that had snarled at you to leave rolls his eyes. "Her jackass suitor owes us a debt and didn't pay up."

"But she shouldn't be caught up in this," You reply. "Let her go, you can... uh... deal with him later,"

The shorter one speaks for the first time, his voice rougher and darker than the other's. "Do you think us fools, little one? We let her go, you and she both will be running, screaming your pretty little heads off, about us."

The girl behind the men lets out a broken sob. "I won't, I promise I won't-"

The shorter one leers down at her. "So much for loyalty to your precious Olvir, eh?"

The girl sobs once more. "Please, don't hurt him! I'll give you anything-"

"Silence!" The man roars as he kicks the girl, hard, in the stomach. Her head jerks back as she mewls in pain and slams into a wall. 

Your heart drops into your stomach, and, without thinking, once again, you lunge at him. Since he wasn't expecting it, you succeed at wresting his knife away from him, but before you can do anything, not that you knew what you could do, the other man pulls you off him, putting you into a chokehold, squeezing as you claw desperately at his arm. You feel yourself starting to lose consciousness when a bright green flash lights up the alley and you're suddenly released.

As you massage your throat, Prince Loki strides into your view, his hands out, encased in a magical green light. His expression is deadly, but he appears calm and collected. The men's faces pale. Before they can even think about running away or attacking, glowing green manacles appear out of nowhere and bind their hands and feet. They fall down, screaming pathetically. 

Then Loki turns to you, the deadliness melting to concern. "Are you alright, Sigyn?" He asks. 

"Fine," You say, wincing as one of your fingers presses down on a bruise on your neck. He frowns, then waves his hand, and suddenly the bruises are no longer there.

"Y-your Highness!" A voice gasps out. You and Loki turn to see the girl, her head bleeding. Her eyes are wide and her lips are trembling. 

Loki helps her up, healing her, and she starts crying out of sheer relief and shock. "Thank you so much, your Majesty, I mean your Highness, I'm sorry, but thank you, I don't know what I could've done, thank you so much, oh god, I'm sorry, uh, Sidgin? Is that your name? Thank you, too, I-"

"Will you be alright?" You interrupt her. "What did they want with you?"

She whimpers. "I- I do not know, but they h-hurt me because of Olvir-"

"They will not hurt you any longer," Loki says firmly. "Or Sigyn." 

"My lord, my prince, my god, thank you so much-"

"Of course," Loki replies, gently letting her go. "Do you need anything else? Should I have someone escort you home?"

"No, no, that will not be necessary, thank you so much," She wheezed.

"You're certain?" He asks doubtfully.

She smiles. "I- I work at the palace, your Highness, as a maid, I just got separated from my group of friends."

Loki's brow furrows. "And how exactly did Sigyn get mixed up in this?"

"S-she saw me, Highness, and, being a kind, beautiful soul, she came after me, she was so brave, and so were you, Highness,"

Loki turns to you, and you bite your lip at the confused concern and... was that anger? "I see," He says coolly. 

The girl is soon on her way, and Loki hands the trussed up guys to city guards before turning to you, stopping you before you can step out into the bustling market again. "Sigyn, what were you thinking?" He demands softly. "You could have been killed!"

"I wasn't thinking at all," You answer truthfully. "I just couldn't let her be dragged off like that, I acted purely out of instinct, it was foolish, I know,"

He shook his head. "You are a most fascinating person, Sigyn," He mutters, turning away slightly, his hand reaching up to press against the back of his neck. 

You fight down a blush. "I- thank you? Your Highness? Loki?"

He looks at you, expression pensive. "Loki will do, Sigyn." He murmurs. "This... this cannot happen again. Therefore, I ask you to- no, actually, I order you to train in defense and combat. With me. We should do so every morning unless one of us is otherwise occupied. Your sister may join if she wishes. If I had not been there today... if I had not seen you leave... well, it is better not to think of that. I will personally train you, unless you would rather someone else do so instead. There will be no arguments."

With that, he leaves you, standing there, still processing his words. You go over them four times. Then, a strange warmth fills your chest. For some reason, you are absurdly happy at the thought of being trained by him. It is quite improper, but then, you don't let yourself dwell on that thought. You'll probably come to regret it later once your mother confronts you, but for now, you nod, even though he cannot see you. No arguments indeed.


	8. Troublesome Truths

“What do you enjoy doing besides reading?” Loki asks, expertly dodging as you aim a blow at him. “I’m afraid you will have to be a little quicker,” He comments as you try to throw another punch.

“I, ah, like horses,” You answer. “I connect with them better than with people,”

“You seemed to do fine at the marketplace yesterday,” Loki says casually as he catches your right fist in his hand and twists, just enough for a twinge of pain to shoot up your arm. You grit your teeth and pull away, determined to land at least one hit on him today.

“I- I guess. I’m sure Sigrid did better,” You reply, clearly knowing that she had not.

Loki chuckled. “If by better you mean more intimidating and more fear-inspiring, then yes, I suppose she did better,”

As he’s talking, you feign trying to elbow him in the chest, but at the last second, your hand darts away and jabs him, hard, in the side instead. He stumbles, and your eyes widen. Well, you’d succeeded… but was he alright? Was that too hard? Did it hurt really bad? Were you going to be-

“I can almost see your mind working at impossible speeds, Sigyn,” Loki says, grinning as he regains his balance. His breathing is even again. “Don’t worry, that was excellent.”

“You’re okay?” You ask hesitantly.

He laughs. “Don’t look so worried, Sigyn. I didn’t volunteer to train you to show off my combative skills. I want you to be able to defend yourself, and at some point you’ll have to land a hit.”

You train with him for another ten minutes before Loki decides to call a break, mostly for your benefit. As you sit down on a bench in the shade of a tree and sip from a flask of water, Sigrid comes by, talking and laughing with Prince Thor.

She stops short when she sees you and Loki. Prince Thor then looks to his left and beams when he sees you and his brother.

“Training again, Lady Sigyn?” The crown prince asks jovially. “At this rate, there may very well be another fearsome female warrior in our noble ranks soon,” He then laughs as though he’s made a hilarious joke.

“Indeed.” Sigrid says, looking at you meaningfully. “Is my... fiancé a decent trainer?”

“I- yes, he is.” You reply hesitantly, not sure what she wants now.

“Would you care to join us, love?” Loki asks, and Sigrid’s face tightens almost imperceptibly at the word love. You feel a twinge of... something as he says it.

“No, thank you,” She says, polite but curt. “But I was hoping to talk to my sister, if you don’t mind. I needed her opinion on a... dress.”

You get the distinct feeling that that was not at all what she wanted to talk about. Loki catches your gaze, and, to almost onlookers, it would seem to be a cool and unconcerned one. But you can tell that he doesn’t believe that’s what she wants to talk to you about either.

“Of course,” Loki says graciously. “Fantastic work today, Lady Sigyn,”

“Thank you, your Highness,” You respond formally.

As soon as the princes leave, Sigrid practically drags you inside to her room, closing the door decisively behind her. 

“So,” You begin, slightly apprehensive. “What did you want?”

Sigrid settles herself onto a soft couch and pats the seat next to her. Frowning, you sit down. You usually sit across from Sigrid, a subtle way for her to put distance between the two of you. To put up a pretense of distance, as though you are not her sister.

“So, Sigyn, how are you enjoying life at the palace?” Sigrid asks, a light smile playing about her lips.

You had not been expecting that at all. “I- well, it’s very nice, I suppose.”

“Good. I like it very much too,”

No, you think silently. You like the power Prince Thor could bring you if you charm him enough.

“Mother loves it, of course, she was raised here. Father, well... I’m sure he’ll adjust.”

“Why would he have to? Once you’re married to- anyways, Father, Mother, and I won’t be staying.”

“You and our parents might have to come over more often than planned,” Sigrid responds primly.

“Sigrid, what is this about?” You ask suspiciously.

“I know why I’m marrying Prince Loki and not Prince Thor.”

You blink. “How?”

“I overheard the king talking to his advisors. Some of the advisors were confused as to why the younger prince is being married off first.”

“Sigrid!” You hiss, aghast. “You cannot just... spy on the king’s affairs!”

Sigrid waves her hand dismissively. “It’s my affair too, Sigyn.” She pauses deliberately. “There’s been dissent up north, somewhat close to where Father lives.”

You’d heard that there were some murmurings of disquiet up there, but you hadn’t thought much of it. There were always those angry at the monarchy, but, if really faced with the Allfather, they backed down immediately.

“The Allfather wants to strengthen his family’s ties to that region and get closer to the insurgents living there.”

“Insurgents?” You burst out. “They have not done anything radical!”

“No, but they will soon, or at least, that’s what the king believes.” Sigrid says firmly. “When they do start rebelling, it won’t be safe for you and our parents. Still, they’re not a terribly great threat compared to others. So, I’m valuable to the monarchy, but not valuable enough to warrant being queen.”

“Prince Thor will probably marry some foreign princess,” You say.

“Exactly.” Sigrid agrees, nodding as well as if to emphasize her point.

You know there’s more. Sigrid must still want to marry the crown prince.

Sigrid smiles as if knowing your thoughts. Her eyes are ablaze with ambition. “I have a different plan now.”


	9. Memorable Impressions

You have been training with Loki for almost a week, steadily getting better and more comfortable around him.

Sometimes, when you’re resting, you get the distinct feeling that he is staring at you, almost contemplatively. And sometimes, he gives you that strange, warm smile he never gives anyone else. Whenever he does, it makes your chest tighten.

You meet and train with him at the same time every day. An hour after breakfast, Loki knocks on your door, strange, considering he could just send a servant or guard to take you down to the training grounds. He trains you for the rest of the morning, and, sometimes, Sigrid comes along, often hanging onto the arm of Prince Thor. You try to avoid talking to her when she does, and, surprisingly, she doesn’t push it. You would have expected, after your blatant refusal to listen the last time she’d told you she had a plan, she would’ve kept nagging you and putting you down until you agreed to help.

On one occasion, your mother sees you with Loki. She shoots you a disapproving glare, but then Sigrid comes out of seemingly nowhere and distracts her. Later that day, you notice that she is having a private lunch with Loki, laughing and talking far more openly. You suspect that she’s only doing it to appease mother and get you out of a reprimand, but why? Why would she do that? Did she think that harsh tactics wouldn’t win you over to her plan?

The day after, Loki doesn’t come get you and he doesn’t send you a message. You saw him briefly at breakfast, he came in just as you were finishing. There was a small frown on his face and his eyes were downcast. He didn’t acknowledge anyone at the table.

You wonder if you should send him a message, but then decide to just go and see him. He always came to you, after all. It somehow seemed wrong that you merely send him a message through one of the staff.

You ask for directions and arrive at a dark door of extremely fine wood. You hesitate for a moment, but then raise your fist

He answers the door after your fourth knock. “I know, Father, you don’t have to- oh. Sigyn.” He blinks, his formerly troubled countenance and frustrated tone melting away, not quite into the warm strangeness you’ve come to expect from him, but close. He straightened and cleared his throat. “Did you need anything, Sigyn?”

“You didn’t come to training today,” You say. His brow furrows, and you almost panic, wondering if he’s displeased. “I mean, I just didn’t know- you were probably busy of course, being a prince and all, and I- ah, didn’t mean to bother you, surely you have more important matters to take care of than training me, I- I’ll just take my leave now, I’m very sorry-“

Loki smiles then, that strange warm smile that seems to light his entire face up. He’s always been handsome, at least to you, but when he smiles like that, he seems... radiant. “Ah, my mistake. I must have gotten carried away with work.”

“Oh, well, that’s alright, I should be going, I’m sorry to have bothered you, Highness-” You stammer, turning to leave, but he takes a step forward and grasps your elbow, tugging you gently but firmly back to him.

“Even after all the time we’ve spent together, you still cannot bring yourself to relax around me and refer to me by my name, as I have requested,” He muses.

“I-I’m sorry, Loki,”

Loki lets your elbow go and pinches the bridge of his nose. “There’s no need for you to apologize. I’ll be ready shortly. You may come in and wait, if you like,”

Come in? To a prince’s chambers? Your mouth dries, but a treacherous curiosity arises in you. You wonder what his chambers will look like- probably neat and orderly, you guess. Maybe even meticulous.

Loki smiles as though he can see your inner turmoil. “I promise I will protect you from the possible damage your reputation might suffer for daring to wait in my sitting room as I get ready.” 

He then turns and walks back in, not even bothering to look behind to see if you follow. Soundlessly, you do.

Of what you can see of his chambers, they are mostly bedecked in green and black, and they are indeed very tidy and sparse, at least for a prince. He certainly isn’t materialistic, then, except perhaps when it comes to books. There are shelves upon shelves of them, and you smile at the thought that the prince loves reading as much as you, though you suspect his readings are far more enriching and advanced than what you typically devour.

You sit down a green and gold chair, and he heads off into another room, closing the door behind him. After a few moments, you stand up and read the spines of the books he has in his room. They are organized by category, and they encompass a wide range of topics, from brewing potions to breeding horses. 

Your eyes catch onto an open book- no, a journal of sorts- lying on a desk tucked in a corner. Thinking it must be notes on a particular topic, you lean forward, hoping to catch a glimpse inside his mind. Much to your surprise, it is not notes you read, but something far more personal, far more than just a glimpse into his mind.

_I am still betrothed to Sigrid Eriksdottir, eldest daughter of Lord Erik Njalsson, despite having showered a litany of complaints on Father and Mother. Unfortunately, I do not care for her, and I doubt I ever will. Her younger sister, dear Sigyn, on the other hand…_

_I was barely fifteen when Thor and his idiot friend Fandral humiliated me and excluded me from some special trip with Fandral’s parents._

_When I confronted them about it, they laughed. I also found out that they had deliberately invited a lady I had fancied at the time. Though it may sound silly now, it was incredibly hurtful then. I was horribly sensitive and self-conscious at that age, a weakling, as my father often called me. I wanted for nothing but approval and acceptance, and instead, I was cast out and ridiculed, even by my own father and brother._

_Fandral, even then the charmer amongst the ladies, told me no one would ever love me, that I was too ugly, too undesirable. That I would always be second best to my brother. His words left an imprint on my heart and self-esteem so ludicrously deep that, to this day, my sense of self-worth is still tarnished. It certainly doesn’t help that most, save Mother and, perhaps, Sigyn, really do prefer Thor._

_Sigyn, barely four, stumbled upon the scene, and watches curiously for awhile. She made Fandral uncomfortable, and, when he asked her what she wanted, her response impacted me just as much as Fandral’s, if not more. To this day, I can still quote her words._

_“I wanted to say that I don’t believe it was very kind of you to say that to him. You ought to treat people, every person, well. Plus, what you said was just entirely incorrect! He’s not ugly, I think he’s beautiful on the outside, and very beautiful on the inside, too beautiful, maybe, because he didn’t respond to you cruelly. He’s not second best either. Everyone has talent and potential, including him, you have just been too blind to see it.”_

_Though her speech was not very fluid, these were her words. A four year old, with such graciousness and poise and eloquence._

_And then Fandral replied mockingly. “No one besides his mother will ever love him,”_

_And Sigyn doesn’t back down. “I will!” She declared. “If not now, one day! One day I will love him, because he deserves that, and more,”_

_I wonder if she remembers this incident... most likely not, I don’t remember much from when I was four._

_She was such a delightful child, and I wish I had seen more of her upbringing. I wonder how she could have turned out like this when her sister is ambitious to the point of being cutthroat, her mother is close-minded and materialistic, and her father is cold and aloof._

_I have held onto this memory of her, sometimes almost desperately, obsessively. I have remembered her words in the worst moments of my life. She has, in a way, saved me from an even darker existence. And not just once. ___

__You suddenly realize that your hands are shaking and you are holding the journal. You quickly put it back, a thousand thoughts racing through your mind. You should not have read it. A mere glance was too much. This was… this was violating his privacy! But, a small voice in your mind whispered, he left it out. Surely the prince would not be that careless? All the same, he had not invited you to read it. These were his intensely private thoughts, hopes, insecurities… if you had been in his place, you would be furious._ _

__A sound from the other room catches your attention. It sounds like the prince is putting on armor. Hurriedly, you go back over to your seat and sit down, waiting anxiously. You can’t let him know what you’ve just read._ _


End file.
